I Owe You
by grisly blanco
Summary: he saved her life and, much to his displeasure, she was hell-bent on repaying him. — hibari, haru
1. knight in rusty armor

**Title**: I Owe You  
**Summary**: He saved her life and, much to his displeasure, she was hell-bent on repaying him.  
**Pairing**: HibaHaru/1886  
**Type**: On-going  
**Rating**: T  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

* * *

o1: _knight in rusty armor_

* * *

It was a lot more hectic in the household, what with a few of the Guardians having been abruptly called upon a mission (something he silently fumed over, when that herbivore of a Tenth made no mistake in asking for the _Mist Guardian_ rather than himself, a far by better option) and the women helping the men prepare for their leave. Such unorganized herbivores, these people. Had they not been resilient to his threats and hardened stares, he would have bitten them all to death and carried on with the mission himself.

—But that was not the case, as he was still recovering from the injuries he picked up on his last confrontation with fucking spies that surprised the lot of them with a new method never used before in gaining information about the Vongola: having one woo someone within the Vongola. His choice? The idiot herbivore, Miura Haru.

The man had _really_ done his research. He knew of her insatiable love for sweets that can only be quelled with a delicacy itself. He also knew that she frequented a particular pastry café at least three times—Monday, Wednesday, and Sunday—a week, and with his way with words and handsome face of luscious blond hair and blue-green eyes, he was hired at said café. On the Wednesday of his second week working, he made himself comfortable opposite of the brown-haired woman and handed her a favorite, _choux_ à _la__crème_, free of charge.

After a few more visits and free pastries, Haru became flustered. When he offered, yet again, on a Sunday two weeks later she kindly declined. He merely smiled, and took her hand, lips grazing her knuckles (was such public affection even allowed?) as he used his free hand to slide two rectangular sheets of paper toward her end of the table. She squealed in delight when realizing that these were the tickets to a fashion show she was looking forward to attending but decided against it when she knew no one, not even Kyoko, shared the same interest, let alone wants to attend. He said the second ticket was for him, and he'd gladly be her date. Haru assumed the man took note that because of her love for making clothes, she's automatically deemed a fashion expertise (God only knows why, if the fabric she wove together was anything considered fashionable).

Either way, she swooned—he definitely made Haru's Appreciation Day all the more better.

On the night of the fashion show, the idiot woman never came home. The Sun Guardian's sister urged the Decimo to look for her. It was not like Haru to have her phone off, and even so, she would have been smart in asking her date in allowing her to borrow his phone to make a call and inform the others whether she'll be spending the night with him—something the Sasagawa's sister and, surprisingly, the Storm Guardian would have adamantly refused (he insisted that he's only keeping the Juudaime in mind, because he keeps Kyoko in mind, and his crush keeps her best friend in mind and wouldn't allow her to rendezvous with a stranger in his home)—or come home.

Luckily, Hibari was in the area. Tetsuya had managed to bring him out and drag him to a bar a few blocks away from where the fashion show was being held. He didn't drink much, and it was past midnight when the Tenth called to let him know that the Miura girl was not answering her phone and so then was deemed 'missing'. He complied in assisting the rest in looking for her and after excusing himself, he promptly left—truthfully, he didn't care, he just needed an excuse to leave.

Now that he thinks on it, he wished he stayed.

* * *

_It wasn't long until he received two texts: the address both the spy and Miura were currently located, and an image of the idiot woman. The spy must have been incredibly stupid if he did not free them of any cellular device that can easily be tracked. And stupid, indeed, was the man when Hibari rushed into the hotel, demanded the room of the woman displayed on his cell phone—his tonfas serve as great persuasive material—and broke down the door labeled B06._

_The Miura woman was sprawled on the wooden, creaky floor. She was gagged and both her wrists and feet were bound by wire; he can already view red marks on her skin, most likely caused by the chafing of wire as she obviously tried to free herself. Her left cheek was bruised and swollen, her short brown hair was in complete disarray, and black streams of tear and make-up residue stained her cheeks. The periwinkle-colored dress she wore was pulled to her hips, revealing ducky-printed undergarment and pale, slender legs._

Really_, this troublesome fucking woman—_

_Pain seared his lower abdomen and he vaguely remembers seeing a white flash. In one corner he saw a man with a gun still aimed in Hibari's direction, soft smoke emitting from its muzzle. The metal object was quivering in the man's hands and it dawned onto the Cloud Guardian that he probably didn't expect him, out of all people. A smirk crept to his lips, widening as he neared the trembling man. _

_Clutching onto his stomach with one hand, he charged at the man and, easily dodging the second bullet, he used a single tonfa to whack the gun out of his grasp. The Cloud Guardian's right foot pushed against the black-near-graying wall and he leaped to the adjacent wall, his left foot balancing on it as his right foot removed itself to balance him against the man's back. A sickening crack then reverberated throughout the room. _

_Hibari stared with little interest at the blood that ran down the man's forehead, running down his nose and trickling over the tip._

"_Who sent you?" He demanded harshly, eyes focused intently on the man._

_He had received a small whimper in return. The man said nothing else in words, and Hibari's attention was suddenly diverted to the man's hand, where he heard a small ding. In his possession was a cell phone, and the word _SENT!_ displayed on the screen._

"_You-"_

_The man grabbed the collar of Hibari's vest, fingers kneading helplessly into the fabric. _

"_G-Go." _

_His eyes then shut close afterward, death overcoming him. It didn't take long before Hibari recognized the uniform the bloody, dead man donned was the exact same as the desk clerk downstairs—this "spy" was a fucking decoy._

_The Cloud Guardian stared, perplexed and irritated. Soon enough, a group of foreign men arrived at the door, and he rose in a dignified manner, all too aware of the faint numbness taking over his body: blood loss. Before he could even complete uttering his signature death threat, they moved on him._

_He doesn't recall much after that. He does, however, recall the loud woman tugging at his arm, annoyingly calling out his name—_Hibari-san, Hibari-san!—_and other familiar voices._

_The high-pitched sound of that idiot woman and fucking _kufufufu_ was the last thing he wanted to hear._

* * *

And that is how he found himself two days later in the presence of a sulking Miura Haru, inwardly dying as her nimble hands worked on replacing old bandages with clean ones.

The entire household was vacant, bathed in complete silence, and it was _odd_.

It had struck him as a surprise that he was the first to detect her unusual behavior. At first, he was uncertain about what to make of her actions lately. He was even more uncertain about the negligence in the others—whether it was genuine inattentiveness or choosing to be privy to the herbivore's unnatural silent demeanor. It amused him that the former is even possible; she's one of the loudest and is often heard amongst the others every day, what with her ridiculous _hahi_ and cries of affection toward the Tenth. How can one not notice the subdued shrieks of that woman?

But _now _he understood. She felt so... _guilty_, and he felt so damn _weak_—weak, because he couldn't fight off six other men without suffering a bullet grazing his right shoulder, a stab to his left arm, a split lip, and two broken ribs. _Honestly_, she should have shut the hell up and not remind him that he was saved by _Mukuro_, of all people. That damn herbivore made sure he was the one who, along with the rest of the Guardians, killed the most and executed an escape plan with Hibari in tow, all the while laughing his ass off.

And laugh his ass off he did, yet again, before he and the Guardians left to carry on with the mission. It's been two days now, and the Cloud Guardian was confined to a white bed, surrounded by white walls and God, white fucking everything—and at the receiving end of the Miura's tender care. The other women were elsewhere in the household but not even they were talkative as usual, probably too apprehensive and worked over what happened to their precious friend two days prior.

"I never really got the chance to say this"—she paused to regard his soft grunt when she wove the bandage around the swollen stab wound on his left arm—"but thank you for coming to my rescue."

"It was out of mere obligation, herbivore, do not flatter yourself." He responded casually, not looking at her once.

"A-Ah, yes."

Silence ensued again. After her handiwork was completed, he expected her to leave—and _not _remain seated on the stool, looking at him with large doe eyes.

"_What_?" He asked, clearly annoyed.

"I owe you." She responded simply, eyes casting off to look elsewhere when his penetrating gaze was turned upon her. When he said nothing, she continued, "Although that man was a decoy and didn't give me these injuries, he's not entirely innocent. Seconds before you came through that door, he was planning to... rape me."

"You speak as if I quickly rushed to your rescue. I was a few blocks away; you were lucky," came his indifferent response.

"Oh."

He sure as hell wasn't used to this side of her, it was damn unnerving. And she _still_ wasn't moving.

"Your work here is done, herbivore. Leave-"

"Hibari-san," she interjected, wary that she had just interrupted the _Cloud _Guardian. Within a matter of seconds, that look was gone and replaced with a look of... determination? "Hibari-san." She said firmly.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes; women can be so weird with their emotions. He waved his hand, as if allowing her to continue.

"Whether it was a coincidence or not, you came and saved me from having my pure, untainted and chaste innocence stolen." Her voice quavered a bit, but she sat with her head high and back straight.

"I understand. You are grateful. _Now leave_." He practically hissed.

She seemed perturbed for a few seconds before clearing her throat, nodding. "You're right. I am grateful, Hibari-san." She eyed him wistfully, before speaking slowly again. "I... am indebted to you."

This time he didn't suppress the urge to roll his eyes. He wanted to smack his forehead in exasperation but found it difficult to move his arms, thanks to the wound on either limb. He settled for a better remark instead: "Then you may as well be indebted to the other herbivores, correct?"

"_Hibari-san_," she said exasperatedly, as if _he _was the retarded one in not understanding how her stupid mind thinks. "I am glad you all came. But it was you who suffered the most injuries and it was _you _who prevented a horrible man from ridding me of my innocence!"

For some reason, she became real flustered and passionate when she spoke of her virginity. Was it that much of a big deal? He had to contain a growing smirk and the urge to rudely ask why she was still a virgin at the age of twenty-five.

"I know how you can settle your 'debt'." The Cloud Guardian offered.

"Oh?" Her face considerably brightened up, interested. "How?"

"Leave and let me be."

"I will not! Not until I feel as if I have genuinely repaid you, Hibari-san! So please, do not hesitate in asking me to do anything that will assist you in any way and benefit you in the end!"

(It's only been five minutes and he's already concluded that this has got to be the first time he's heard her form comprehendible sentences.)

His eyes narrowed. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you."

She smiled brightly, looking up at him with elbows propped on the edge of the bed and her head kept in place on her palms. "Nope."

"Fucking herbivore... I _will _bite you to death." He said with absolute vehemence. He was not going to allow her to win this conversation.

"Ah~ but Hibari-san, you must eat this soup I've cooked! You haven't eaten all day and, considering your condition, you _need_ the nutrients," she explained, taking the bowl from the nightstand at the side of the bed. She dipped a spoon and recovered some of the soup's contents. She then proceeded to raise the spoon to meet his mouth.

"What _are_ you doing?" Hibari asked, looking sincerely mortified at her insinuating action... Was she going to _feed _him?!

"Feeding you of course," She said, making attempts to probe his clamped lips to prove her point.

The man opposite of her looked ready to flip the bowl out of her grasp. Such attempt could not be made, however, when a sudden excruciating pain shot through his right shoulder when he made move to raise his arm.

A hiss of pain did not go unnoticed to the brown-haired woman and she smiled knowingly at him—almost _wickedly_.

"Give me the bowl." He demanded through gritted teeth, eyes looking forward.

Haru placed the bowl in the ready hands over his lap, and she watched with silent amusement as he winced whenever lifting the spoon to his mouth. After a few tries, he resorted to dipping his head very low, but that was not wise on his part, for such movement caused ache underneath his chest where tender ribs were still in the process of healing.

"I've no problem feeding you, Hibari-san!" She chirped at his side, noticing his discomfort.

He refrained from whacking her forehead with the spoon and telling her to fuck off.

"You're a nuisance, herbivore."

She grinned. _And you're my savior_.

* * *

**Author's** **note**: Let me just say that I've suddenly fallen in lovelove_love_ with these two. I truly hope I didn't make either seem OOC. If anyone is wondering, no, Haru does not like Hibari—not yet, at least. We all know Haru became deeply attached to Tsuna when he saved her in their teenage years, but she is an adult in this fic and no longer mistakes acts of chivalry for something more. I've just always pegged her for the type to go through great lengths in repaying someone to express genuine gratefulness. As for Hibari, it's clear he's not totally approving of her crazed suggestion but he'll warm up to it~!

This will be a maximum of five chapters. First is short, but do not worry—the rest will be a bit lengthier to make up for it. Reviews are loved!


	2. chocolate kiss-my-ass

**Author's note**: I've finally finished the cover art to this fic (I'm barely getting the hang of digital inking, forgive me T_T) and I now present you the second chapter, which is also an early Valentine's Day special (if you want to look at it that way) for my lovely readers. And, as I promised, a lengthy chapter!

* * *

o2: _chocolate kiss-my-ass_

* * *

"It's Valentine's day."

"Hn."

"It's snowing too."

"Hn."

"Such a lovely holiday it is." Haru sighed dreamily.

The man beside her merely snorted, and Haru expected the derisive response. _As if he cares._

"Leave."

She knew he was beginning to dread her mere presence; it usually meant facing bright smiles and her cheerful voice inquiring of his day—not that there was anything to respond to that as he was still bedridden and could not do much—or anything else of insignificance that she need not know simply because she's not worth sparing such information. The following day of her proposition, he didn't acknowledge her, never once responding to questions she asked or any expressed concerns toward his well being. Three days later with nothing but the incessant use of his name on her tongue, he began reacting—just not in the way she'd hoped. He would lock eyes with her now; soft gray pupils bore into hers with such a fierce stare that he knew did not deter her, much to his annoyance. Angry growls were emitted on his part whenever she repeatedly asked something she knew he heard the first time, but did so anyway just to gain _some_ type of response.

"_Had you not been in any sorts of relations to that herbivore_," he'd said, referring to Tsuna. "_I would have killed you long ago_."

He said that yesterday evening when he asked her—for what seemed like the nth time already—to leave once she brought him his meal, but she only smiled and said she'll patiently wait until he has finished. Haru had did her best in maintaining that sincere smile, the sincerity coming from the understanding side she upheld, assuring herself that he was only joking—and quite cruelly at that. But, deep down, she knew he meant those words more than anything.

"Mm! Have you finished? Haru—I mean, I can take your bowl now, if you'd like."

She slipped up, and she momentarily waited for a response, fearfully chewing on her bottom lip. He hated when she spoke in third person. She wasn't sure whether it was actual hate or great annoyance, but a few years ago, she went on a verbal rampage when her first boyfriend of two months broke up with her. Apparently her "innocent act" wasn't cute anymore and the fact that she was a virgin wasn't enticing as it once was. Such honest, hurtful words they were. She cried to Kyoko, Bianchi, I-Pin and Chrome, gasping out choked cries of _Haru does not deserve this_ and _Haru_-this, _Haru_-that. Out of nowhere, Hibari appeared and slammed a tonfa on the wall, eliciting a sharp scream from the girls.

"_Shut the fuck up, you herbivore. Learn how to speak like a proper human!_"

Ever since then, she was cautious of how she spoke around him when using third person.

"Hn."

"I'll take that as a yes! Did you enjoy the food, Hibari-san?" she asked, setting the bowl he recently emptied on top of a tray.

"Hn."

Such a social butterfly, this man.

She didn't move an inch, inwardly struggling to find words. She tried _so_ hard and she was beginning to question her vain effort.

"Well?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, uhm, I'll clean up and leave, then." She hastily arranged the other plates on the tray, and quietly left without a word.

"What am I doing?" Haru softly groaned as she walked toward the kitchen.

Earlier, Kyoko admitted to noticing the unusual amount of time she was caught in spending in the company of the Cloud Guardian for the past week. She had been eying Haru, confused by the strange smile plastered on her face whenever she went to the infirmary room to bring Hibari his food. When she didn't depart from the room seconds later—as she should have, because Hibari Kyoya doesn't take kind to visitors who remain in the same room as he for more than a few minutes—Kyoko could only raise her eyebrows in suspicion. She can only deduce one idea.

"_Hahi!?"_

_Kyoko began waving her hands frantically. "Haru-chan, it was only a thought! Please correct me if I'm wrong!"_

"_You most certainly are wrong, Kyoko-chan!" The brown-haired woman gasped, vigorously shaking her head as if to shake out the mental image of her and Hibari—as a _couple_._

"_I-I'm sorry," Kyoko apologized, slightly relieved at the finality in Haru's tone. "It's just weird, you know? You've been with him lately... Haru, I know you feel immense gratitude but Hibari does not expect anything in return, you know that, right?"_

"_Haru knows that, Kyoko-chan!"_

"_Then why are you doing this, Haru-chan?"_

Why, indeed. Hibari doesn't care for anyone but himself. He saved her, but not out of consideration; maybe out of consideration for Tsuna's concern, but that's it. Hibari did make a point when he told her if it weren't for Tsuna, she'd be dead by now—by his own hands, no less—and anyone smart enough can easily interpret that as _not _a compliment. Haru is no one to Hibari but an annoying overbearing woman that will not accept a chivalrous deed for something simple as _yeah I just saved your ass _without going out of her way to repay her savior.

If it were anyone else, would she be doing this? Gokudera, Yamamoto, _hell_, even Mukuro. Yes. But would she prolong her duties of _forever in your debt, I shall do as you ask _to appease her savior? No. The former mentioned have came to her rescue at least once, and she knows they appreciated her return of gratitude, even if they have never admitted it.

When her foot got stuck in a narrow ditch in the backyard a year ago (she had to reprimand Gokudera and Yamamoto later, for even thinking of using the backyard as a training area to settle any childish quarrels they had) Mukuro appeared at her side, lured by her cries of pain and helplessness, circling her with an awfully wide smirk on his face and making sneer remarks on her current predicament, _kufufu_ing like a madman. _Why him! _she had thought, trying to tune out his taunts and wondering when someone _considerate _may arrive and rid this apathetic asshole from her presence.

During those thoughts, she hadn't realized the man in question was skillfully removing her foot and lifting her to her feet, a strong hand gripping her arm to keep her balanced until she regained consciousness in her left foot. When he figured she was all well, he muttered _foolish toy _and walked away, only to have said toy lunge at his back a few seconds later, asking if there is any way she can return the favor. He was quick to ask if she'd want to assist him in humiliating Hibari, a task that will involve red lace lingerie and handcuffs (used on her part) to which the blushing woman refused, surprised that the Mist Guardian was capable of speaking so casually about such things.

"_What? It would be amusing, don't you think? Every time I come here it's so dull; you and I should take part in livening it up by toying with him."_

Both never carried out with his plan, even when he offered other crazier suggestions that involved using her as a guinea pig in his new illusions. In the end, he convinced her to allow him to use her rag doll she sewn together at a young age as the "victim" for his new trick. Hesitantly, she agreed and watched guardedly as he placed the old battered doll in a small box with holes at each end, the head and legs of doll being visible: the good ol' 'cut-in-half-by-chainsaw' trick. Sensing her worry, he assured her that the doll will be put back in place once the trick was done.

To her dismay, he opened the box to reveal her rag doll badly torn at its center, yellow cotton poking out like guts hanging onto the seams for dear life. He laughed maniacally at this.

On that day, Haru learned Mukuro wasn't an _actual _magician, but just a complete psycho that relished in seeing someone in pain.

She no longer owed him.

Aside from that terrible memory, she cherished others, like when Yamamoto saved her from almost being killed by her sewing machine when the long ribbon from the bow on the collar of her blouse got stuck and the needle was rapidly working its way up, nearing her skin. He asked her to make him sushi—he had just returned from a long mission, and his stomach had to rely on plain rice balls to get him through the day—as means to return the favor, and she accepted. When Yamamoto admitted that it tasted just like his late father's sushi, Haru couldn't prevent her accomplished smile.

Haru even recalls when Gokudera chased away a stalker ex-boyfriend of hers, nearly blowing up precious body parts of his before Haru had to step in so as not to witness such a gruesome display. As usual, they verbally fought afterward, with Gokudera yelling more than ususal (_"Shut the fuck up, stupid woman, maybe you shouldn't date men equally as stupid and crazy as you!"_) which, according to Haru, roughly translated to: _You're welcome, next time be wise of the men you choose, or else they can end up hurting you_.

On their way home, she couldn't help but ask if there was any way she can thank him—since she was too stubborn to properly say the phrase itself—but he only ignored her. Once home, he surprised her by flinging a gun in her direction, the object landing heavily in her hands. Ignoring her cry of _Hahi!? Haru doesn't need this to protect herself! _he flung a cloth and it landed squarely on her face. _Put yourself to use and help me polish my guns_, he'd said.

So she did, and for two hours, they both sat in a comfortable silence.

She didn't forget how he promised to teach her how to use one, too.

If only it were that easy with Hibari. This past week has proven that Hibari only did what had to be done and simply did not care if she made it out alive or not. The outcome was what everyone had wanted, and that's all that mattered; his job was done. He didn't want to hear a 'thank you' or receive any other form of gratification. He didn't _want _anything from her, and maybe that's why she refused to leave him alone. She wanted acknowledgment, the same way she acknowledged her savior and, in turn, wants him to do the same of her actions in expressing gratitude.

It was wishful thinking. Weeks can go on and nothing will change. She can do everything for him, and tell herself that he's probably silently thanking her, but she knows that's not the case and it's infuriating. She _wants _to hear it from his very mouth, and that in itself is a feat that may never be accomplished.

She was slapped around and almost raped, for God's sake! She can't go on living at ease without rightly repaying her rescuer; it was _just _the way she was brought up to be. Haru is so used to being saved and making her saviors feel like such decision wasn't a waste that she—to her own surprise—wants to do the same for Hibari. He was almost killed because of her... _stupidity. _

"I must be going crazy. He hates me!" She lamented as she eyed the dishes in the sink.

Suddenly, an idea hit her. The dishes can wait; she has other _important _matters to attend to.

"Haru won't give up yet!"

* * *

Bored. He was so bored. The setting of room was no help either; it was so _white_ and accentuated that very dull atmosphere. He can move his arms now, but his abdomen continued to hurt like hell. Even with the bullet being carefully extracted from his body already, he still felt like something was lodged in there. A few days ago, he couldn't walk without feeling pain. Even the two-minute trip to the bathroom with a cane assisting him was a pain. Now he can walk freely, but Dr. Shamal warned him that a lot of movement can hinder his chances of ribs being properly healed.

Bedridden for a couple more days, it is.

It's been several hours since the Miura woman was in the room too. The herbivore didn't do much other than remove his bandages, clean his wounds, and then wrapped his limb again, only with new bandages. She would arrive in the morning, evening, and night to bring his meals, often trying to start conversation but failed and instead would talk about herself—and boy, did she fucking talk. Then she would poke her head through the door at random times of the day, asking if he'd like anything, to which he always responded with a curt shake of his head.

Such a persistent, loud woman she was. Truthfully, he didn't understand her. He didn't give a shit about any type of "debt" being repaid and _God_, he didn't understand why she didn't understand that! Although, he was glad that she didn't develop a newfound affection the way she did with the Tenth years ago when saved from drowning (if only the damn herbivore had allowed the roaring river to swift her away). Now _that _would have been a problem.

He couldn't kill her, that was a definite no. She knew that better than him, so he didn't bother voicing threats anymore because it didn't frighten her. He could have resorted to flinging nearby objects whenever she was in his presence, or whack her with the cane that was dutifully at his side. (His tonfas were kept in his own room in fear of him using them to inflict pain, _yet_ he was given this cane? Stupid, stupid herbivores.) Unfortunately, that could not be done either.

Hibari concluded that she will not leave him alone, even after he's well and no longer bedridden. She was a patient one, that herbivore. Everyone knew that of her. No matter the few boyfriends she's acquired over the years (it's not like he cares and has pried into her personal life; she's just so fucking loud and openly talks about her problems to everyone in the household) she has been "in love" with the Tenth for so long, even when it's quite obvious to everyone—including her—that his eyes are always on a certain Sasagawa that is able to render him into an incoherent fool whenever she is in his presence. The idiot Miura knows this, she knows this well.

It's no wonder she's so calm with Hibari—but she _will _crack soon, The Tenth is a kindhearted, weak herbivore; he fears the crazy emotions that accompany a woman whenever they do not get what they want: attention, _acknowledgment_—exactly what he gives to the women of Vongola.

The Miura woman wants acknowledgment of her grateful actions? Like hell she'll receive it.

"Hn," he smirked. "I wonder how long it will take until her patience begins to wear thin."

"Hibari-san~!"

_Speak of the fucking devil_.

Craning his neck to the right, he suppressed any words of profanity that threatened to leave his lips.

At the door was the annoying herbivore clad in an array of red, pink, and white. She wore a sleeveless white blouse with ruffles outlining the v-neck collar. A red skirt rose to her hips, the hem stopping mid-thigh. At her feet were nude-colored heels, making her appear a bit taller. She _could _have looked like a mature, young woman—since she wasn't wearing those mortifying costumes of hers—except there was a ridiculously large pink bow headband set atop her head. He guessed that more than makes up for the ridiculous costume she lacked this evening.

However, what caught his attention the most was the white box with a heart-pattern exterior settled in her arms.

"What are-"

To his ever growing uneasiness that began worming into his stomach, she made a beeline to his bedside, sitting down so abruptly that he winced.

"Hibari-san!" She exclaimed, looking up at him with a smile full of teeth.

"Herbivore," he said with great nonchalance, trying to subtly inch away from her as much as possible. She smelled of perfume, he noted, and the smell was more welcoming than that of the antiseptic odor his nose has become accustomed to the past week—of course, he'll never admit that to her.

"I've come up with a plan." She said, large doe eyes looking unexpectedly into his, scaring the shit out of him—her eyes were _huge_. He wanted to poke them with the end of his cane.

"I don't want to hear it, you nuisance," he replied, arms crossing over his chest as his gaze turned to the window, the snow suddenly becoming interesting.

Haru rolled her eyes, ignoring his dismissive comment. "Anyways! I usually do this a day before the actual holiday, but since the men are still away, I decided, _why_ not do it today? Originally, Kyoko-chan was supposed to help me, then I thought, _why_ not Hibari-san? He's been cooped up in here for far too long and this is such a fun activity!" She giggled, holding tightly onto the stupid white box.

"And what exactly does this activity entail?" He inquired dryly, not at all interested.

Her hands removed the opening of the box and she delved inside, retrieving a small plastic bag, its inside consisting of a red heart-shaped box that read _Happy Valentine's Day! _in white cursive letters. The box was resting on top of pink and white heart-shaped confetti, a lollipop resting diagonally against the plastic. To finish it off a red silk ribbon messily tied the whole damn thing together.

"You can help me make these. I won't be doing much, just for every Guardian, including Tsuna-san and Reborn-san." She said, smiling.

He immediately deadpanned. "No."

She ignored him again, continuing, "I'll do two at a time, and you can do the same. We add a good amount of confetti inside the bag, insert the box of chocolates and the lollipop follows. It's an easy task, really, so it won't take-"

With great speed, his arm shot out and his hand roughly took her by the chin, pulling her head forward so hard that an unpleasant electric pang shot through the back of her neck—that freakin' _hurt_.

"Hibari-san, you're h-hurting me." She managed to say, feeling the grip on her chin tighten.

His eyes bore into hers, his face mere inches from hers.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you do _not _command me to do anything for you."

"I wasn't-"

"Shut up," he hissed, his thumb pressing hard underneath her lower lip, also feeling the hardness of teeth between a layer of skin. "Do not expect me to engage in such childish activities."

There was fear in her eyes—_great _fear—and it satisfied him. He removed the death grip on her chin. She should leave him alone now.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, rubbing at her sore, red chin with the back of her palm. Her other hand unconsciously fingered the silk ribbon that bound the opening of the plastic bag, and the ribbon came undone. Realizing her mistake, she cursed underneath her breath—a small _oh darnit! _since expletives were not in her vocabulary—and began clumsily handling the ribbon, tying a rather messy bow.

She tried a second time, failed, scolded herself, and repeated the action a third time, unaware of the annoying expression that settled on the Cloud Guardian's face, seemingly growing even more annoyed at her lousy handiwork.

After failing again and onto her fourth try, he let out a growl and snatched the damn thing from her. "You idiot herbivore, are you daft? How do you manage to tie your own shoes? Or are you totally inept of doing such a simple task that one has to do it for you?"

He glared at her turned face, then his eyes rested on her hands, and he noticed that the inside of her right was two shades darker, a red almost, with blistering bumps scattered on her palm. She must have realized where his attention was suddenly focused on and self-consciously closed her palm, away from his questioning eyes.

"I was a bit clumsy earlier," she laughed nervously. "In rushing to prepare lunch for you—all." she added quickly. "And I picked this up"—she waved her right burnt hand, a sudden gleam now to it, the result of a thin layer of ointment—"when I realized the cookies were burning in the oven and I reached for the tray with my bare hand and—hahi, it was really hot!"

Hibari said nothing and only returned his attention to the small bag, surprising her as he skillfully tied a perfect bow, pulling at the separate ribbon ends until they were at equal length. He tossed the bag at her, and she grabbed it with her left hand right before it made contact with her face.

"The Storm Guardian has a point: you really are a stupid woman."

Haru forced a smile. "Ahh... haha..." _The bastard. _

His hand reached toward her again, and she instinctively flinched and closed her eyes, waiting for him to attack her chin again. When one eye opened, the other followed suit as the outstretched palm held upside before her did nothing.

"Well?" He scowled.

Unsure, her left hand dove inside the box and quickly grabbed a handful of confetti, shoving it inside the plastic bag before halfheartedly dumping the chocolates and lollipop.

Hibari gave her a disapproving tut. "Are you in some type of rush? Handle that properly; I know movement in your right hand is limited but you are not an _invalid_, you fool."

Haru nodded slowly, and she figured that it was okay to work at a slow pace, so she did just that, inserting the needed contents into the bag. She made a go to grab a long silk ribbon, until both ribbon and bag was snatched from her very hands.

It seemed like that task belonged to Hibari.

Haru eyed the heart-shaped box thoughtfully. According to Japanese tradition, a woman is the one to give a gift of chocolate to the boys and men in her life. Then there was White Day to look forward to a month later, the opposite of Valentine's Day when it came to the giver of gifts. Such a mocking holiday, she once thought with contempt. Before, it was the only day out of the year that reminded her that she will most likely grow to be an old spinster, stuck in a humid, dusty factory behind a desk and operating a sewing machine along with other equally despaired women because they, along with Haru, have resorted to such a humiliating minimum-wage job since their dreams of fashion designers was declined at a young age.

It was shallow thinking. A lack of boyfriend/husband shouldn't define the rest of her life. It meant that she would be dependent on him, and his support was the only sole support she needs in order to get ahead. (Because honestly, what sounds better than _my love, I have faith in you, you are the most magnificent woman and world renowned fashion designers will be at your feet to beg you to work for them_. Then steamy goodness will ensue because she will swoon at his words of encouragement.) But now, Miura Haru, age twenty-five, not-so-proud virgin (not that she is in any rush, but she really thinks her true love should just appear already so they can do that whole six-month rule of hers and then get it on and go at it like rabbits the years following) and an aspiring fashion designer, has all the encouragement and support from her friends, her family (except Gokudera, who mocks her "foolish dream" and makes fun of her "lousy pieces of fabric", the jerk).

"You're slowing down again; pick up the pace."

She complied.

Haru did this every year—giving out chocolate—without fail. In her teenage years, when she became acquainted with everyone, she made it a goal to be the giver of sweet, delicious chocolates to the boys who have grown on her (including octopus-head, Gokudera, the unappreciative bastard). Every man in the famiglia received a chocolate. All but one did not receive chocolate, however—Hibari.

Everyone warned her. _Tsuna_ warned her. And, at the time, she was childishly in love with him and took heed of his warning, because he was _worried_ about her. She could not defy him. As generous as she was, she also knew it would be a bad idea to offer Namimori's leader of the Disciplinary Committee chocolate, let alone even _speak _to him. He'd probably demand her to shut up, or snatch the chocolate from her and stomp it with his boot in front of her own eyes, or threaten to bite her to death for even thinking of trespassing Namimori's school grounds! Such scenarios scared her so much that it veered her actions of even preparing a gift for him.

Ten years later, Hibari never received chocolates from her—or anyone else, for that matter—not once.

He didn't care—she stopped feeling bad, too.

But as she watched the man before her, calmly tying ribbons and surrounded by Valentine goodies, she wanted to laugh. It was quite the scene.

"Do you like _giri choco_, Hibari-san?"

The man, to who this question was directed to, stopped his ministrations and eyed her with a stoic expression.

No response.

"It's the chocolate I added-"

"I know what it is," he interrupted. "I do not enjoy sweets."

"Oh," was the only word her mouth formed. It didn't come off as too shocking, though, for she pegged him to be the type. "I do."

He scoffed disdainfully. _No shit_.

"It can help in reduce stress." She said pointedly.

A roll of his eyes.

"Actually, the aroma alone can ease any anxiety one may feel!"

An exasperated sigh.

"Chocolate does wonders in-"

"Do I look troubled?" Hibari snarled.

Haru gave him a lopsided grin. "No, Hibari-san, I'm merely suggesting something that may be of help whenever you do find yourself in a stressful situation."

"The way you are speaking almost insinuates that I am stressed. Actually," his eyes scanned the ceiling, staring blankly at the white surface. Then those eyes, menacing as ever, met hers again. "You are able to produce quite the headache."

She giggled but silenced once under his scrutinizing glare.

"And just what the _hell _is so amusing?" He demanded with much vehemence, his fingers suddenly itching to grab the cane at his side.

"Nothing," was her quick, quiet response.

The intensity in his glare considerably lessened, and then his eyes on her were no more, now refocused on the Valentine gifts sprawled before him. "Are we done?"

Haru nodded quickly, but did nothing.

The impatient bedridden man sighed, his jaw tightening. "Come gather these ridiculous-"

"They're actually for you." She said, fingers gripping the edge of the chair, fearing his reply.

Hibari shut his eyes and exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers rubbing his temples as he tried—yet again—to understand the herbivore's actions. Had she not said these were especially made for the other men?

With one swift movement of his arm, the blanket covering his legs and underneath the gifts, was thrown aside, the offending objects now hurling toward a squealing Haru.

"Hahi!" She yelped in pain, as one pointed edge of the bag poked her in the eye.

"Get out." The Cloud Guardian said coolly, not giving a damn about whatever indirect—which was more intentional than anything—pain he may have inflicted with his action. The moron could have moved, but she was so slow, unable to hurriedly raise her arms to her face in defense. Pathetic.

"But your gifts-"

"What use do I have for them? Why present me with so many?" His voice became lower, even threatening, as he spat, "_Ten_?"

Haru flinched at the dark intone of his voice. Her own voice suddenly became meek as she confessed, "Every one of them is to make up for the past ten years I never presented you a gift. I apologize for that, Hibari-san."

He smiled sardonically. "And what makes this year any different? Suddenly feeling guilty in knowing you are the reason I'm like this?"

She scowled heavily at his wise-ass reply, which was partially true. "Honestly, guilt does play a role, but not entirely. I know this won't make up for what you've done. I did it because... because..."

"_Because_?" Hibari reiterated mockingly.

That's it. Screw dignity. Screw ladylike composure. Screw the great trepidation in speaking in third person. She cracked.

"BECAUSE HARU WANTED TO!" She squeaked. "And Hibari-san deserves it, not only because he saved Haru but because of the many other times he has done that same good deed to his partners! Haru knows this because she has tended to those very men who laid on that very bed, telling Haru of the man who saved their lives! They appreciated it, Hibari-san, they _really _did!" She exclaimed fervently, before pausing to breathe. "The same way Haru appreciates what you have done for her." she finished softly, the tip of her ears feeling very, very hot.

There was a strange look to his face. From the few times she even bothered to glance at him, he was expressionless as ever. His lips always remained in a thin line, sometimes tugged downward in an ugly frown. Any rare chance of an uplifting curve of his lips in a smirk or scornful sneer, did not express any emotion remotely happy unless it was to harm another. Sadistic jerk.

So when Haru, perceptible as she was when it came to reading expressions, saw the fleeting gamut of emotions in his eyes—such a quick display it was—before returning to his normal, narrowed gaze, she knew.

Hibari chuckled darkly and, with a great show of stretching his arms above and resting them behind his head, he lazily drawled out three words: "I don't care."

With a sigh of utter defeat, she gathered the small gifts strewn everywhere into her arms. Walking to the nightstand beside him where the box laid, she emptied the bags from her arms into it.

However, before she picked up the box, Hibari's hand encased her forearm. Wide brown eyes looked at the man, stunned.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Perplexed, Haru looked back and forth between the man and the door behind her. "Leaving?" She asked uncertainly.

"You leave, but that," his head nodded toward the box. "Stays."

Unable to stop herself, she blurted out, "Why?"

He ignored her, the nails from his fingers sinking into her skin.

Okay, she gets it.

With a slow nod of understanding in his demand, he let go. The uncomfortable silence soon descended them, and Haru didn't have it in her to talk animatedly right now, as she usually does. Awkwardly, she muttered a "bye" and left.

But she didn't _completely _leave. She made a great deal of creating as much noise as possible in the clacking of her heels, walking a considerable distance until she was sure that she made it believable that she was out of range. Slipping out of her heels, the soft underside of her feet made contact with the cool floor, and with vigilance, she walked back toward the infirmary.

She stopped before the door, head ducked underneath the small window that allowed one to look inside through checkerboard design on glass.

When one brown eye peered through the glass, she didn't stop the smile that crept to her lips.

Hibari was eying the square chocolate warily, eyes scanning every angle and small lump, totally unaware of the presence on the other side of the door, anxiously anticipating his next action. When he took a small bite into the chocolate delicacy, Haru had to refrain from smashing her face onto the glass and let out a cry of _yes!_

She didn't bother to stay any longer to see how he reacted, not really wanting to witness the disgusted look had he not enjoyed it—she rather take pleasure in the fact that he took initiative in eating it.

Bouncing off happily, something unexpectedly struck Haru. And unexpected it was, when the truth sunk in, that she came to a halt.

There was no mistake in the emotions that flitted in his eyes—she knew that look. It's the same look she saw in her past saviors, when they didn't voice their acknowledgment in her actions of gratitude, it was in their eyes.

_Thank you_.

At that moment, she decided she wanted to see that look again—but not for a brief moment.

And perhaps, she truly does want to hear those very words too.

* * *

**Author's note:** Not as romantic and fluffy as you may have expected a Valentine's special to be, huh? I'm sorry to disappoint, readers, but we all know Hibari is an asshole.

I also apologize for the lack of dialogue and more so bulky paragraphs here and there. I really just wanted for you all to grasp a basic understanding of why Haru feels the way she does. In this chapter, I tried to portray just that, and Hibari's response to it. Haru's plan backfired at first, but she eventually got what she wanted, if not vague on Hibari's part.

Another thing I'd like to clarify: Haru still does _not _like Hibari, and vice versa (obviously). That last bit explains how completely taken aback Haru was, and even though she should have accepted and left it alone, she's curious and unsure. So now we move onto the lengths Haru will take into gaining that same reaction again to ease that growing curiosity and uncertainty in how exactly Hibari takes to her actions.

Hope that answered some questions you may have had! The next chapter will include more dialogue/interaction. And a warning: this fic isn't all happy-go-lucky as it's made out to be; there will be angsty/touchy moments (God knows I'm not too good in conveying that). Until then, wonderful readers!

(_Giri choco _- or obligation chocolate - is the chocolate given to anyone to which the giver has no romantic attachment with.)


	3. of coupons, dessert, and compliments

o3. _of coupons, dessert, and compliments  
_

* * *

"Hibari-san, your tie is crooked! Wait—hey, hold still while Haru adjusts it!"

"Unhand my tie, you-"

"Haru is almost done!"

"I do not need your assistance-"

"Ah," she stepped back and examined her handiwork, looking thoroughly satisfied. "Purple was a nice choice. It suits you."

Glowering, Hibari turned on his heel and sauntered off, muttering something under his breath that Haru wasn't able to catch. Still, she followed him.

"Don't overexert yourself today, Hibari-san! Although you have recovered, Dr. Shamal recommends that you do not instantly begin—omph!"

He heard a loud thump—her nose unexpectedly meeting the door—and an even louder thump when her bottom landed—painfully, he noted, when he heard a hiss—on the floor. Shuffling movements, five seconds of stillness and silence (no doubt composing herself to regain some type of dignity lost in being rejected a conversation, though not the first, by him) and then he heard her footsteps walk in the opposite direction, sounds fading until she reached her destination. A screech of metal against floorboard—a chair, perhaps in the kitchen—and a soft thud, followed by an irritated sigh. It's likely she's pouting too.

Hibari, too, shared a similar sigh. The past week has been rather _odd_. After the Valentine's Day incident, his relationship with the brown-haired women... well, he wasn't sure what to think of it, or make of it, for that matter. Her intentions seemed _clearer _now. She really has made a firm resolve in remaining at his side.

It amuses him what something as little as guilt does to people.

It was almost as if she's become his assistant, a second Tetsuya—no, he won't give her such a title because that will mean he acknowledges her as someone remotely connected to him, as if their relationship to the Vongola doesn't do that alone. But, from an outside perspective, that was what she had come to be: an assistant of some sort. He could have easily dismissed her—like he tried numerous times a week ago but to no avail—though lately, Tetsuya has been acting peculiar. The other day, he received a phone call and stepped out, leaving Hibari and Haru to mull over their thoughts in his dojo (although she appeared less apprehensive now in his company). When Tetsuya returned, his cheeks were tinged pink—something Hibari had never seen before—and he stuttered a lame excuse to leave promptly, to which Hibari did not object for Tetsuya's duties were done.

He didn't understand why Haru was giggling, and why it caused Tetsuya's face to further redden before bidding both goodbye and making a hasty exit. He raised a questioning eyebrow, and this brought more laughter from the woman who poured him more tea.

"_Isn't it obvious, Hibari-san?"_

It wasn't. But there was no way he was going to allow her to gain satisfaction in picking up something he hadn't.

He never questioned Tetsuya, and when he wasn't available, Haru undeniably was, donning a knowing smile on her face. He relented, deciding in humoring her and allowed her to stick around. This time, he didn't complain. And in a week's time she proved to be tolerable, much to his surprise since it was insufferably difficult to be with her in the same room a week before. She came to him when she believed she could be needed, and startlingly, she always came at the right time. Soon enough, such routines became allotted: she brought him meals, brewed tea for his evening tea ceremony—something he always denied her in partaking in if she asked—and other meaningless tasks she took upon herself in completing, like tidying his area or alphabetizing shelves of books.

She didn't speak as much anymore, which was a relief, but sometimes he wished she'd return to her boisterous, loud self so that he may have an excuse to admonish her and discard her as assistant. But she remained docile and compliant. Hibari surmised she must have caught on that attempting to goad him into engaging in conversation will always be pointless. Instead, she often hummed while doing tasks and kept to herself, as he did.

However, there was something _strange_ about her demeanor when she completed her tasks. Before departing, she would give her farewell yet lingers a moment longer with an unreadable expression on her face, something akin to hopefulness and anticipation. He would scold her then, dismissing her with a wave of his hand and she'd leave, looking pitifully dejected.

And then it repeats the next day.

Haru was willing, and she was always available. Tetsuya was busy; Hibari never took any interest in prying into his personal affairs, and he _finally_ reasoned that keeping the woman around will suffice as a substitute for Tetsuya. Though, when it came to personal matters regarding the mafia, he made sure Tetsuya was present and the woman disregarded until such matters were handled.

It was an interesting turn of events, now that he thinks about it. Initially, he despised her mere presence and persistency in pleasing him to ease her own guilt. Now she has become of some use to him but, in time, he will dispose of her and once she comes to terms that there will be no thanks on his part, that she was merely being used as some _maid_, will she stop feeling guilty and, perhaps, hate him.

God, he hopes so. The thought alone makes his lips form in a small smirk.

Hibird's chirp interrupted any more thinking on the subject of Miura Haru and her sudden role in his life.

"Hm?" He eyed the canary attentively, watching it flap its wings frantically and continue its high-pitched chirps. He recognized the signal: five chirps, five seconds of silence, repeat. Hibird was hungry. Nodding, Hibari quickly washed his face and left the bathroom, Hibird pursuing quickly from behind.

The Cloud Guardian had almost forgotten that Haru was in the kitchen (at least his sense of hearing proved to be accurate). Her back was to him, and she had her head leaning back, a hand pinching her nose. Beside her were a pile of tissues—and was that blood?

Suspicious, he strode toward the woman and halted beside her. He almost sighed out loud—she was having a nosebleed.

"It's rather unsanitary to leave piles of blood-stained tissue on a table where food is prepared," he stated matter-of-factly, completely indifferent to her bloody situation.

Haru looked at him then, and smiled apologetically. "Mhm. But Hibari-san occupied the bathroom and Haru had no other choice."

The man shrugged before heading toward a high cabinet to retrieve a bowl. With a voice that hinted no actual worry, he asked, "What happened?"

Haru stared at him in disbelief. Is he _really _asking that? And _so_ casually too, almost as if he was asking how the weather will be like today.

He glowered at her incredulous stare. "What?"

"Uh—you, bathroom door," her thumb went in the direction behind her, while her other hand gestured helplessly in the air. She cleared her throat, yielding. "Haru ran into a door."

His lips twisted into a scowl. "A door...?" Then, realization hit him.

Oh. Right.

He set the bowl in his hand on the counter and returned to her. Before she had time to take a glimpse at him, she felt his large hand at the back of her head, forcing her to lean forward.

"Hahi! What are you doing, Hibari-san!"

"Silence, herbivore," he chastised. "I am surprised you have not choked on your own blood yet. That is not the proper way to cease the bleeding. You tend to injuries yet cannot stop a simple nosebleed?" His hold gradually lessened, and she let out a shaky sigh. "Pinch the bridge of your nose." He ordered finally before removing his hand from her head.

She did as told, all the while pouting at the implied insult. "I've never dealt with a nosebleed before, and I myself have never had one." She admitted sheepishly.

"It's common sense in how to deal with one. Even a herbivore should know of such thing."

Haru chose to not retort and shut her mouth. There was no point in arguing in something as inane as nosebleeds.

"There are no fruit," he observed as he looked inside the near-empty fridge. "Or eggs."

"Or seeds." Haru added from her chair.

"Seeds?" Hibari inquired, tilting his head sideways to view her.

She nodded. "Hibird is hungry."

An eyebrow lifted, but Haru wasn't able to discern any hint of surprise. She idly wondered how this man was able to retain a face of complete impassiveness all the time.

"Five chirps, five seconds of silence," she continued. "It means he is-"

"I know what it means." He intervened.

_Ah yes_, Haru thought. _He is the owner, after all._

She let go of her nose and sighed happily now that the bleeding came to a full stop. Her hands and the rim of her nostrils were still caked with dry blood though, so she made way toward the sink and turned on the faucet.

"I guess Haru needs to do some grocery shopping," she said over the sound of water running. "Is there anything in particular that you would like, Hibari-san?"

He stayed silent, eyes focusing on the way her hands worked with one another, fingers kneading the underside of other fingers to ebb any excess blood. She leaned over the sink and dipped her head slightly, her hands cradled together as they gathered a good amount of water. She then gave her hands a hard tilt toward her, and the water splashed on her face—then she started rubbing at the outside of her nostrils.

She's so _weird_.

"Hibari-san?"

His eyes lifted to her and regarded her wet face before rounding the table and heading out the kitchen. "Let's go."

"Eh? You too?" She queried as she pat her face dry with a napkin.

"The Tenth asked that, once better, I am to accompany you wherever you go outside of headquarters. Up until recently, Tetsuya should have done so for me. Surely you knew of this arrangement?"

When she fidgeted under his gaze, he frowned.

"Have there been other cases in the past couple days wherein you've left alone without supervision?"

She possibly couldn't have. She was not as stupid as to aimlessly meander as she pleases, even after that little incident. Yet, he is not one to know that. When she wasn't in HQ, she was in his company. Any time away from him, he wasn't sure of what the idiot woman was doing. Tetsuya often wasn't available now, but he too believed Haru understood standard protocol when it came to going in and out of the household: had she any need to leave, she is to ask himself or Hibari.

He spared her another glance; the more time she spent in _not _answering his question, more than so answered his question. Unimpressed, he folded his arms. Haru almost gasped at the heavy glare pronounced on his features.

"You are not to do that, foolish herbivore. If anything were to happen to you again, I am the one to ultimately answer to Sawada."

Guilt immediately seeped in, and Haru bit back an apology that was stuck at her throat. An apology would do nothing, as Hibari would not show any indication of accepting it. But the guilt was there, and she mentally berated herself for, once again, acting foolishly.

Tsuna hadn't exactly told her of the aforementioned plan, and neither had Hibari, but Haru had expected as such. Why bother mentioning such things that one should already consider on their own? It's practical thinking, and the mishap that took place a few weeks ago should have already administered a warning in her head: _do not wander off alone_.

It wasn't as if she had gone completely astray; she was always within HQ required perimeters, but it also wasn't safe being out alone in general. Actually, she was never _entirely _alone, but she guesses that Hibird doesn't necessarily qualify as guarded company and, had there been trouble, she would have been swept away by the time Hibari or Bianchi arrive after once receiving word from said bird.

... _Had _there been any trouble. In other words, trouble could have been a definite whenever she inadvertently put herself out there like that.

"Of course." Haru muttered underneath her breath. "So stupid."

She discarded the wet napkin in her hands and made a dash upstairs.

An hour later, she emerged from her room and found Hibari waiting at the door of the exit.

"..."

"Whaaaat?" She couldn't contain the whine that was interlaced in her query. She spent an _hour _getting ready, and his lack of response on her attire did little to coax her growing insecurity. She knew Hibari was incapable of handing out compliments, but his silence was too much at the moment.

"Do you ever dress normally?" He asked, eying her with a look of... disgust? The nerve of him!

She dropped her gaze to her clothes, tugging on the upper portion of her dress. "Is... Is this not normal?"

Haru had no idea what fault he found in her outfit. She wore a dark shirt dress adorned with a floral design, but not in a vomit display; they were subtle, warm colors. The sleeves were cut a little below her shoulder and the collar was spaced widely enough to reveal her collarbones and chest, but cleavage withheld from one's gaze. (_Not that I've got much to show anyway_, she thought earlier when she sadly eyed her modest chest in the mirror.) The dress was also knee-length, and underneath she wore black tights accompanied by dark blue stockings. She also wore her favorite brown boots. Granted, she would have liked to wear more layers of clothing (like two grandma sweaters, and three layers of pants) that will encase her little body and entrap her in warmth, as well. But she decided against it and chose a simple outfit, one that would not catch attention and embarrass Hibari in public.

So much for that.

"I don't see why women choose to wear a dress in winter. It is not practical."

Haru inwardly sighed. _Poor naïve Hibari-san knows nothing of women's fashion. Pity, pity._

The grin that overcame her face masked the ill at ease feeling inside.

"Ah, well, should Haru change?"

"No," was his immediate response, turning his back to her. "Come on. Put on your coat."

She did, and barely managed to stick her tongue at him before he turned around to make sure she was doing as told and she squealed in fright.

* * *

Grocery shopping with Hibari had to be the most strenuous task Haru has ever faced. This man was _worse_ than a woman. Soon, she had to chide herself for unintentionally making a sexist comment on the female species. But even _she _had to admit that she sometimes becomes a bit... picky, when it comes to shopping. However, she didn't think Hibari would be the same, especially when it came to food.

"This apple. It has a bruise."

"So it does." Haru had commented quietly as she spotted the half-inch, barely noticeable brown blemish on the upper curve of the apple.

Hibari tossed the apple—the one _she _chose—back in the rack. "We will not take it."

Then they had another fruit problem when they came across bananas.

"It is green."

Haru laughed uneasily. "Hibari-san, they will ripen eventually. There's no harm in buying—"

"Unlikely." He tossed the banana over his shoulder and Haru grabbed it before it fell to the ground where a nearby clerk was ready to have reason to shake his head disapprovingly at the unsatisfied customer and the woman who unsuccessfully convinced him in tossing the produce in the basket to buy. She placed the lone banana with the group from which it was wretchedly detached.

Next, vegetables were on the list.

Haru took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten before speaking, slowly, "Hibari-san, Hibird doesn't necessarily enjoy this particular vegetable—"

She took a step back when his eyes bore into hers. "Are _you _the owner?"

"N-No." She wanted to reason with him and add on that when trying to feed Hibird spinach, he was always set on flying off. When she finally had managed to get it in his beak one day, she thought he would have eaten it after he took off, but then she'd find ragged pieces of spinach everywhere. She wanted to tell him that no one back at base enjoyed this vegetable at all, and it was a waste of money in buying it.

"Seeds are next," he said, oblivious to her internal dilemma.

With a shrug, she dumped the no-good green vegetable in the basket.

"Who knows," she said to herself. "Maybe Bianchi-san may have some use for it to torment Gokudera-san's stomach."

Haru nearly blew up when they were at the register and he retrieved a bundle of coupons from his pocket. They had a good amount of products: three (unmarked) apples, two bananas ("These will suffice." Hibari had said as he took in the near-yellowing coating of both. Haru smacked her forehead.), a bag of grapes, eggs, spinach, broccoli, oatmeal, and seeds. It wasn't a lot, even with the other added food Haru picked up to use for tonight's dinner. It certainly wasn't a lot that they had to be careful of the amount of money being spent, but apparently Hibari thought it necessary to wave around coupons that guaranteed a dollar off when two boxes of oatmeal were bought.

"This," he said, pointing at the coupon between his index and middle finger with an incredible use of a poker face. "Presents fifty cents off when a pound of apples are bought. Those," he motioned to the apples contained in the flimsy, plastic bag. "Are of equivalent weight."

Haru brought her arm to her mouth to cover the near-laugh-awkward-cough that struggled to escape her mouth. This man, Hibari Kyoya... was an obsessive coupon-clipper.

She smiled behind her hand as she watched the timid cashier patiently explain that one coupon was out-of-date and the customers behind her mutter angrily as Hibari went in search of another coupon in the thick pile in his hands.

Grocery shopping with Hibari turned out to be unexpectedly entertaining.

Although, it was a difficult task in persuading Hibari into making a quick stop at a bakery shop, but it didn't take much persuading anyway as she strolled in there and he had no other option but to follow because she was not to be out of his sight. It wasn't as quaint as her favorite café (which she could no longer return to, for it was dangerous to hang about in the same location where an enemy is aware of her occasionally visiting), but she was in dire need of satisfying her sweet tooth.

"Wow!" Haru cried with astonishment at the plate of deep fried balls of dough set before her. "This looks so good! Haru has never tried it before. Have you tried struffoli, Hibari-san?"

The man sitting on the other side of the table with his arms crossed curled his lip in distaste, growling an _hn_ in response. It seems he did not like struffoli.

"_Well_, Haru ordered this so that we may share. It's meant to be shared!" She smiled impishly as she wagged one ball of dough in his direction.

Hibari took a long sigh. "Miura, I suggest you quickly eat. Whatever you do not finish, take to go."

Haru giggled and picked up another ball of dough. "What do you mean? Haru can finish all of this in no time, Hibari-san."

For the next five minutes, Hibari watched in disturbed fascination as the woman consumed the entire dish, and then lick her sticky fingers in a fastidious manner. He had to look away last minute to resist scolding her for such... inappropriate, childish behavior.

"By the way, Hibari-san, thank you for accompanying me today." She grinned from the other side of the table, after she finally had the decency to wipe away the saliva on her fingers with a napkin.

The Cloud Guardian closed his eyes. "I had no other choice." He opened his eyes again, eying her with a bored look. "Hibird needed food."

"Ahh..." She hummed in agreement. "Uhm, allow Haru to thank you properly! Tonight she'll make the best shabu-shabu for Hibari-san! Oh, and have you been drinking plenty of fluids? Dr. Shamal said you lost a lot of blood, so you need to increase fluid intake, and there are a lot of proteins in shabu-shabu, like the tofu and meat and..."

He tuned her out, as he was not in the mood to receive the same lecture Shamal had given him on the importance of regaining his health. He was still peeved that the herbivore doctor was the one to aid his injuries entirely. Shamal had felt the same way about the situation; he does _not _treat men. But Haru's persistence and threats to reduce his grapes of future heirs to shriveled raisins had the man fearfully agreeing.

"_Eh, I guess it's no problem. I get to tend to precious Haru-chan after you~!"_

Sick pervert.

"Hibari-san?"

Snapped out of his thoughts, his eyebrows rose in a silent gesture. _What?_

"Shabu-shabu isn't a problem, right?"

He considered her question for a moment before shrugging, eyes cast away to his left. "Your food is never a problem."

A familiar heat began to settle onto Haru's face at his admission. It was subtle, but the implication was not lost on her. Did he just _compliment_ her cooking abilities? She's received many compliments before, and they were always taken with a small smile or soft 'thank you'. Modesty at its best. But this was _Hibari Kyoya_, and this was a rare moment. Her ears then became grossly hot, and it was then that Haru understood that her face was suffused in a rather fierce blush.

"Are you running a fever?"

"Huh?" His naïve observation only served to amplify the blush.

He stood abruptly. "You are sick. You've caught it from Kusakabe."

"Caught what?" She was incredibly lost.

"We're leaving. You are to walk in front of me and remain at a decent distance, herbivore."

He darted to the entrance and left, leaving a red-faced Haru spluttering in her seat.

"H-Hey, wait for Haru! She is not diseased!"

* * *

_Elsewhere…_

"Hmm, is this not an interesting sight?"

A resounding chuckle. "Yes, it is. The woman—I believe her name is Miura Haru. She was Fukushima Kaito's target not too long ago. Hibari Kyoya arrived in time to save her, but she merely served as a decoy to lure him, as well as the other Guardians."

"Ah, I remember now. Though, it was Hibari-san that they took the most interest to, no? And, by great coincidence, he came to her rescue. Pity those fools were easily beaten; they could not even complete one simple assignment."

A nod of concurrence. "Yet, here we have these two again—_alone_. It may be possible that they are more than just acquaintances of the Vongola Boss."

An incredulous gasp, followed by low laughter. "Oh? You think so? I find it hard to believe. From what I picked up on Hibari Kyoya, the man does not seem the type to involve himself with a woman, let alone understand one. That was made obvious to us now."

"Well, that may be true, and perhaps I am getting ahead of myself by forming assumptions based on what I view before us. Though, we may never know. Love may be in the air."

"Haha! Ever the romantic, Naoki, you fucking pansy."

The insulted man made a noise of derision. "Fuck you, Jirou."

"Hibari Kyoya and Miura Haru." Jirou laughed darkly as he eyed the brown-haired woman chase after the Cloud Guardian. "What an interesting pair."

* * *

**Author's note:** Surprise ending for you all! Including OCs that will actually play a role in the fic is a first for me, but they won't be completely revealed until later. As for Hibari's OCD-like behavior, I couldn't help it. He just seems like the type. Did you guys also notice the beginning scene of this chapter correlates to the cover image of this fic? Hee hee :)

I know you probably expected more insight on just what exactly Haru is doing in order to repay him and Hibari was a big vague in explaining it in the beginning of this chapter, but the fourth will contain plenty of crazed Haru-antics. Especially since the Guardians will be arriving home, and how will they react to the absurdity of it all? This chapter just focused on how their interaction has _slightly _improved, and although they don't necessarily _hate _each other, they're warming up to the idea of having the other as company (not so much Hibari). I hope I got that across.

Also, if you're wondering why Haru randomly decided to muster up courage to speak in third person in Hibari's presence, I kind of implied in the end of the previous chapter when she blew up on him and he didn't irately comment on her use of third person, that she took it as an 'okay' to do so. Hence, her mild use of third person in this chapter.

I'm aiming to have the next installment done as soon as possible, before the end of this month, because that's when I'll be the busiest in preparing for my son's second birthday party. I really, really appreciate the reviews I've received so far, they make me SO happy. You guys rock, please continue to provide feedback and let me know of any likes, dislikes, or complaints you have. I always take it into consideration to further help me improve.


End file.
